


Flesh and Blood

by di93



Series: By Any Other Name [1]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M, Post- Flesh and Blood Quest, Pre-Relationship, Professional/logical Sara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 10:26:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10762362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/di93/pseuds/di93
Summary: After dealing with Aaksul on Havarl, Sara can't help but be shaken by her choices, and shaken by the intensity of her attachment to Jaal Ama Darav.





	Flesh and Blood

"Thank you for trusting me. Killing Akksul would have made the Roekaar stronger," Jaal said, looking out into the distance of his home, but Sara grit her teeth as she stared at the ground. 

"He shot you." 

"I'm glad he did-it exposed how far he'd fallen," Jaal said, and Ryder felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach as Jaal gave her his gentlest smile. 

"I was really worried," she grit out, not meeting his eyes, glaring at the button on his cloak/poncho instead. 

"It will heal," he said, moving to caress her head, but she kept staring at the button. "All scars do," he said, even more gently, and Sara had to fight to keep herself in check as she rested her hand against the side of her head for just a moment. "We should get back," Jaal said, taking a step back. "I want to say goodbye before my family heads home," he finished, and she followed without a word. 

oOo 

Sara squinted through her magnifying glass as she used her omni-tool to carve into the barrel of her sweeper. She moved slowly, carefully carving a spiral into it so that she would be able to fix an extra piece into the end of it. Longer barrel, more damage.  

Unfortunately the outside casing of the gun, which would be easier to modify, was made of the remnant polymer. In other words, it was laced with eezo, and she didn't have the tools to carefully handle that in her room. So instead she was carving into the vanadium barrel, focusing intently on getting it right. 

So, when there was a sudden knock at the door, she nearly stabbed herself in the hand with her omni-tool and then almost shot her own foot as her rifle fell. 

"Shit! Shit, shit," she growled, running her hands through her hair for a moment as she tried to pull herself back together. She'd sequestered herself away in her room on purpose. She didn't want to think, didn't want to talk. Modding things, taking them apart and putting them back together, studying artifacts, that was her way of meditating, of clearing her head and finding a center of balance. Balance that she desperately needed because ever since she woke up in the Andromeda galaxy, she'd been struggling to find her footing at all, and then every time she did, it would just-- 

"What is it?" 

"Ryder, I was hoping--" _Shit._ "We could talk? If you aren't busy, of course." 

"Five. Four. Three," Sara whispered as she took a slow breath. "Sure, Jaal. Come in." 

"Thank you, I hope I'm not—What were you working on?" He asked as soon as his eyes landed on the bits and pieces covering the low table in her room. She shrugged. 

"Barrel extension on my sweeper. Did you need something?" She asked, not minding him inspecting her work. She knew that he was just as much a mod junkie as she was, and having that in common gave them a sort of kinship. A base for their relationship that just seemed to be— _Five. Four. Three_. 

"No, I just wanted to see you," he replied, picking up the mod piece. Sara's face felt hot even as her stomach rolled uncomfortably. She was glad that Jaal was straightforward and open with his feelings. It made it easy to know where she stood with him, but given how much she clamped down on her own, she wasn't sure she could handle it right then. Not when, not after—her eyes unconsciously went to the scar on his cheek, but she looked away, going over to her wardrobe to pull on a hoodie. She wasn't cold in her t-shirt, but an extra layer made her feel less exposed, and armor seemed like overkill. 

"Are you alright?" He asked, looking over at her when she had evidently been quiet for too long as she dug through her drawers to find the thickest hoodie she could. At that moment, she wasn't sure if she could appreciate how direct he was. 

"I don't know," she said so quietly that she wasn't sure if he would even hear her over the ship's hum, but then she heard feet tapping against the metal plates of the floors behind her and she blindly riled through her drawers just to keep her hands busy as his landed on her shoulders.  

"I know you are not as open with your feelings as the angara, but if you would like to talk, I would be happy to listen." He gave her shoulders a squeeze before stepping away, and she hated herself for missing the feeling. 

She glared down into the now-disorganized lumps of cloth in her drawer before walking back over to her couch to grab her usual synthetic-leather jacket and pulling it on. 

"I was worried," she said again, finally turning to look at him. He tilted his head and her eyes landed on his cheek again before darting away, staring at her plant instead. It needed water. Like everything else. 

"It will heal, Sara," he repeated. She didn't say anything, didn't even nod this time. "I am alright," he promised, walking towards her again, and she crossed her arms over her chest, as if that would somehow smother her feelings. 

"You almost weren't. He could have— _You_ could have—" she cut herself off, biting her lip. Then his hand was on her head, holding it gently as he had just a few days before, and her arms dropped and defenses melted as they always seemed to when he was close. 

"He didn't. _I_ didn't." 

"My mother, my father, my brother... I already told you, I'm an orphan. I don't have family left, Jaal," she said in a voice so small that she didn't recognize it as her own. "I can't lose anyone else that I care about." 

She found her face buried in the silky cloth of his cloak and his sturdy arms wrapped around her back. 

"You didn't. We're all still here. I'm still here." His voice was fierce and protective, like somehow he could protect her from all the painful experiences she's had just by holding her a little tighter. Her chin quivered and her eyes stung as she held back her tears. 

"Your family is small," he said gently, and she nodded against him, trying very hard not to think about exactly how small it had become, especially if Scott never... _Five. Four. Three. Two._ "But the crew of this ship, it feels like its own family." Sara huffed a small laugh. 

"Suvi and I have thought about making Drack a '#1 Space Grandpa' mug." Jaal's laugh shook both their bodies, but he didn't let go of her. She was glad for it, though that made her all the more nervous. "I don't get close to people easily." 

"I've noticed that. However, It seems like it is a trait specific to you, not all humans," he said, curiosity coloring his voice and Sara's chest felt tight with anxiety again. 

"It varies, but yeah. It's not a culture thing. Just a 'me' thing," she said, finally pushing him away, not meeting his eyes, and he let her go, but did take hold of her hand where it pressed against his shoulder for just a moment, giving it a small squeeze. 

"I enjoy learning about 'you' things." 


End file.
